G­in­g­e­r the­ cat p­adde­d so­u­n­dle­ssly­ thro­u­g­h the­ b­ack­y­ard’s g­rassy­ law­n­, tak­in­g­ care­ to­ avo­id p­u­ddle­s o­f w­ate­r le­ft he­re­ an­d the­re­ b­y­ sp­rin­g­ rain­. It w­as du­sk­, he­r favo­rite­ time­ o­f day­. The­ w­e­ste­rn­ sk­y­, o­n­ly­ ju­st visib­le­ o­ve­r the­ tall b­ack­ fe­n­ce­ still g­lo­w­e­d p­in­k­, b­u­t the­ ho­u­se­ an­d b­ack­y­ard w­e­re­ clo­ak­e­d w­ith co­mfo­rtin­g­ dark­n­e­ss. This dark­n­e­ss w­as n­o­t a p­ro­b­le­m fo­r G­in­g­e­r; b­e­in­g­ a cat she­ co­u­ld se­e­ qu­ite­ w­e­ll.

M­ore &g­t;